


The Games We Play

by hestherewithme



Series: Collection of Random Crisscolfer Drabbles. [12]
Category: Glee, Glee RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-01
Updated: 2014-08-01
Packaged: 2018-02-11 08:41:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2061489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hestherewithme/pseuds/hestherewithme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I couldn’t get the idea of prankster!Chris out of my head based on his recent mentions of pranks. About ~2,900 words of highschool!Crisscolfer, including a relentless Chris and a very unlucky/lucky Darren.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Games We Play

 

Chris was almost eleven years old when he pulled off his first prank. It was fueled by anger, and Randy got what he deserved. He just always took his lunch and to make it worse he even figured out where Chris hid the candies his mom had given him.

It’s not like Randy needed the food. He had his own. And if he kept this up he’d just get bigger, Chris would get skinnier and it would just be easier to get shoved around. The solution was clear, he’d have to outsmart that bully. 

 

Chris planned it out carefully. First, instead of bringing packaged juice, he insisted on a powdered drink, one he could refrigerate and take to school the next day. His parents were all too happy with the money-saving technique along with Chris taking responsibility for his own lunch. He brought a reusable bottle filled with an orange flavored drink for a week, feigning annoyance and anger when it was snatched from his table every day at lunchtime.

 As his terrorizer got used to the taste of  _Tang,_ Chris executed his plan. All it took was getting up a little early and following the same procedure to make his drink. But instead of using that cylinder filled with an orange-tasting powder, he opened a packet of  _Kraft Dinner_ and used its powdered cheese. He needed a little extra water for the right consistency to match his regular drink, but that was all the effort it took. 

The laughter of the entire lunchroom, combined with the look at disgust and humiliation on Randy’s face was more than enough to satisfy him. Luckily, he was never caught. For some reason Randy never said a word, and he didn’t dare to look at him again. Perhaps it was embarrassment, but Chris would never know for sure. The fact that he moved to a different school the next year was just icing on the cake. 

The rest of his school years were tough, to say the least. Puberty, grades, family, crushes, and tormenters were enough to occupy his time. But Chris had a way to vent his frustrations. Pranks. He wasn’t a habit or anything. It was a calculated process. There were rules. 

Such as : 

  * Only prank those who deserve it
  * Never fool the same person twice
  * Don’t stick around to see the trick take place
  * Never harm the person physically
  * DON’T GET CAUGHT



He had these rules for a reason. Chris was loved by most of the teachers. He never complained, he completed assignments on time, helped out the librarians, and was kind to the lunch ladies. All the people above the age of twenty in his school were infatuated with him. Which is why he was never a suspect. 

Hell, he got so good with his antics even his victims never suspected it was him. All because he followed the rules. Unlike most people who pranked others, seeing it all play out didn’t give him satisfaction. He would hear all about it the next class anyway. The plotting and the setup was the thrilling part. How he could be in complete control and in command of every detail. He loved that. 

His entire high school was wary of the unknown prankster. But they never thought someone as timid as him could actually be the one carrying these out. And that’s how Chris liked to keep it.

Of course he wouldn’t pull those stunts on just anyone. Only the assholes that deserved it. He would wait two or three weeks after someone harassed him to exact his revenge, otherwise people would start getting suspicious. Chris was incredibly patient. He waited nearly a month to pull off his most elaborate prank yet. The one where he put chicken seasoning cubes in the locker room shower heads. That took care of most of the football team who walked around thinking they owned the school. 

It was all so perfect, until the new kid accidentally stumbled right into one of his setups, ruining everything.  

He was getting back at this cheerleader who thought it was hilarious to spill the contents of his cafeteria tray down his clothes after “ _accidentally_ ” bumping into him. Of course at the time he didn’t say a word. He had sheepishly walked away as if he weren’t planning on how to get back at her. 

And here he was two weeks later, hearing the news of how the new kid had fallen victim to what he had done. It wasn’t even that bad, he just unscrewed the screws to her locker, enough that when pulled the entire door would come off. That new kid probably thought he was in trouble, breaking something that wasn’t his. 

Chris figured that the guy was probably offered to share her locker until his own could be arranged, and unintentionally got disgraced in the process. Chris thought about saying sorry, but that would involve revealing himself, and bothering to talk to some douche who was already popular enough to share a locker with someone like Lillian on his first day of high-school. 

However, when that  _certain_ group, containing Lillian entered his next class, he heard a new voice, accompanied by some enchanting laughter, which apparently belonged to the ravishing vocal chords of the dupe who had pulled off a locker door. He was actually laughing. 

_‘What the hell?’_ Chris thought. ‘ _This is a first._ ’ The new guy wasn’t affected at all by what Chris had done. He had the nerve to show up to new school, already get accepted by the populars, look  _that_  good, and just laugh at Chris’ plan?

For some reason, Chris couldn’t stand it. And although the guy had done nothing to him, he considered it a personal offense for someone to casually get over something he had pulled. 

So Chris took it upon himself to try and get that guy. It wasn’t even that he was getting him back for anything. Chris knew that, but he still started out with a small one. He took advantage of the fact that the lunch ladies adored him, took note of the schedule of fries being served, and snuck a few ketchup packets to poke tiny holes in. Yeah, it was immature, but he didn’t have time to come up with a prank on such short notice. It had only been a week since the locker incident.

Around lunch time he hung around the boys bathroom waiting for a pissed off boy to come into the bathroom to clean up the sticky ketchup. He convinced himself that there was nothing more to this guy, and kept avoiding the answer to why he was so intent to see as much of him as possible. It was a lucky chance that he actually came to clean himself up in the toilets, and didn’t just use the hoards of tissues that all those girls surrounding him probably offered him. 

He walked in with a confident stride, and started wet some paper towels to wipe off the remnants of Chris’ prank. 

Chris washed his hands for the fourth time in ten minutes, trying not to make eye-contact with the boy through their reflections. 

“Hey.” 

Chris almost jerked back in fear, and then composed himself enough to respond “Hi.”

“You’re in my English class right?”

“Yeah, and you’re the new kid.”

“For now. But I prefer Darren. Nice to meet you.” he stuck his hand out in greeting. 

Chris was hesitant to shake it back, only because he could feel guilt creeping up on him. Why was he so genuinely sweet?

“Oh I’m sorry. You probably don’t wanna shake my hands after seeing that gunk all over me. I just have the worst luck.” he shrugged.

Chris didn’t say anything, and just let him continue to talk. 

“So, I didn’t catch your name.”

“C-Chris.”

“Well hello there Chris. I’m sorry we had to meet under such circumstances. In a toilet of all places. At least it’s not near the urinal. Now that’s embarrassing, right?” 

Chris just nodded right there, wanting to tell Darren to stop talking or he’d confess right there and wreck everything, but he also wanted him to never stop. To continue with those words that seemed to wring out every negative emotion that Chris had and transform it into the most extraordinary sensations he had ever felt. He ran out of the bathroom without saying any explanation and leaving the boy inside probably more confused than when he entered. 

He waited for the end of the week to get Darren again, and hoped he could push him to the edge this time. Apparently clear plastic wrap on the urinals of the boys’ bathroom, and the spilling of piss everywhere just causes a case of the giggles between Darren and his new friends. He hated it. 

And he hated the fact that he had already broken a couple of his rules for this idiot. 

_What the hell was wrong with him?_

 

 

It wasn’t like he could talk to anyone about this anyway. So he disappointed himself yet again, by standing in the hallway the next Tuesday, patiently waiting for Darren to pick up the money left on the floor, so he could make the illusion of his pants ripping by making a sound no less that a few feet away. 

He was risking getting caught, but he convinced himself that the sound wouldn’t carry from a further distance. This vantage point had nothing to do with the fact that it would provide a perfect view of Darren’s ass. Not at all. 

And it didn’t work. For as long as he could remember, his pranks always pulled off. And now people just walked past it like five dollars were no big deal. His intended victim casually strolled past it twice, and it made Chris furious. 

He wanted to give up after that. He really did. He told himself that this anger was getting him nowhere. And no matter how hard he tried to get Darren’s atten-. No. How hard he tried to get Darren, it wasn’t going to work. 

So he tried to forget about it. About him. He really did. Until about two weeks later when he overheard Darren being asked out on a date.

By someone who wasn’t him. Why couldn’t it be him? Why couldn’t he have a relatively normal life where he had the courage to ask the person he liked on a date, or at least to hang out? Why did he have to be the weirdo who spent his time irritating others? The only clarity in the midst of the anger and confusion surrounding him was an idea. It was just the way his mind responded now. 

He didn’t waste any time in devising a trap to get back at him. Maybe have it happen front of that  _girl._

 

Unlike all of his previous pranks on various others, Chris had made a point to find out as much of Darren that he considered a fact less than a stalker. Darren had no shame in advertising his classes, interests, clubs, etc. He was such an easy target. 

 

He went over his options.

_Stink bomb? No. That’ll take too much time._

_Dirty water bucket on top of door? Nope, too much collateral damage._

_Salt on cupcake frosting? Urghh no. Lot’s of variables._

_Maybe mess up his instrument in band? How would I pull that off? What if I? Yes. Got it._

It was simple, Darren was eagerly given a seat in the school’s orchestra. And if Chris’ memory of a terrifying semester of a wrongly chosen elective served him correctly, Darren would be sitting right in front of a trombonist. Whose instrument could be filled with a powder. Or perhaps the art supply closet wouldn’t miss a handful of glitter. Simple. 

Unfortunately for Chris he didn’t have the chance to see the whole ordeal take place, he had a class. But he made sure it would happen today, for in ten minutes his next class would involve a Darren still trying to shake the flakes of brightly colored sparkles from his head. 

He sat waiting for Darren to enter, but there seemed to be no sign of him. Only the mention of his name, in a whispered hush behind him took his attention away from the classroom door. 

“I’ve never seen Neil get mad before.” 

“Well, I don’t blame him. First Darren took his instrument, blew that glitter all over Neil’s face, and then he started laughing. He sorta asked for it.”

“Yeah, but I don’t think he needed to punch him. Like Darren’s ten times smaller than him. It could have been worse.”

“I know. What the hell was he thinking. Screwing with someone like Neil. You don’t need to personally know the guy to see he could beat the living daylights out of you.”

_Shit. Shit, shit shit._

He couldn’t pay attention the entire class. 

_How could I have done this to him?_

He couldn’t sit still for the last ten minutes and asked to be excused to the toilet. And ran as fast as he could to where he needed to be. This had to end now. And the only way it could, was with a confession and an apology. 

He cautiously waited outside the room until the nurse left.

He entered and saw Darren with his head angled backwards, to decrease the bleeding. There was already a couple of bright red tissues next to him that made Chris’ stomach lurch with guilt and sadness. And fear. 

“Hey.” Chris said meekly. 

Darren moved his eyes towards him and raised his eyebrows, probably wondering why he was here. 

“I’m sorry. I am so, so sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Darren shrugged, hardly bothered by the fact that Chris was apologizing for his current predicament. “I don’t think your original plan involved me getting socked in the face. Did it?”

“No. No. Never. But you don’t seem shocked that it was me. You knew?”

“Yeah. For a while. Since the pissing one. That was hilarious.” he said slowly lowering his head to look directly at Chris, but keeping the tissue in place.

“Oh my god.” Chris answered mortified. 

“I guess now that we’re both on the same page, can I ask why you hate me so much?” Darren said with a slight grin, but the way his voice cracked indicated just how distressed he really was. 

Chris immediately regretted stepping inside this room, because the only thing worse than being caught today, would be to cry in front of this boy. 

“I- I don’t know. God. I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I did that. You of all people did not deserve it. At all. You’re sweet and carefree and nice and the only good thing I have seen in this goddamn town after a long time and I hurt you and I am so sorry.” 

Chris would have exited dramatically after his apology, but then he felt a runny nose. He figured it was his turn to be embarrassed. Darren sympathetically offered him a tissue, and Chris thanked him with a smile. 

“Hey. Look. Don’t take it so hard. My brother says that I have a face that asks to be punched, so he wouldn’t blame you for all of this.” Darren said, trying to lighten the mood.

Chris snorted into his tissue, and gazed at Darren in complete wonder, still in awe of how someone could be this lighthearted and gentle. He couldn’t actually be a real person. 

“I’m not real? That’s a huge compliment. Coming from you.” Darren said, slowly removing the tissue since the bleeding seemed to have lessened. 

_Shit did I actually say that out loud. Karma is having a go at me today._

“What do you mean coming from me?” Chris said, holding in his breath. 

He gave him a smile that Chris was sure no person, girl or guy, had received in the few weeks Darren had been here. Which was slightly reassuring. 

“Are you kidding me. Okay. First of all, you are a genius. I figured nobody has had the chance to acknowledge that yet, excluding me. But from what I’ve heard you have pulled off the most incredible pranks and still haven’t been caught. The whole school has no idea that it’s you they are so terrified of. That is pure genius. To top it off you’re hot. And you’re telling me that I’m not real. Dude. You need to do a serious self-analysis. But I repeat, thank you for the compliment.”

Chris’ mouth physically dropped open at Darren’s honesty, along with his appreciation. A hundred thoughts were hurdling through his brain at the moment, but the only one that was clear was ‘ _He thinks you’re hot.’_

_“_ Y-Y-You actually like me?” Chris stumbled out, pointing to himself just to make sure that punch hadn’t messed with Darren’s brain. 

“Uhh. Yeah. I sort of hinted at it. But I could go on if you’d like.” Darren smiled, which was undeniably comforting to Chris. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, your nosebleed seems to be acting up again.”

Darren’s hand instantly shot up to his nose to check for any trace of blood, but found none there. He then glanced at Chris who had a gleam in his eye. 

“Gotcha.” he said. 

_Finally._


End file.
